Awakening
by smurftoes
Summary: Mostly Adam's POV during and following Do the Math
1. The Pull

_This is my first ever fanfic, so I decided to go with some fluffy stuff. Hope you enjoy!  
_

**The Pull**

Adam leaned his head against his locker for a moment before opening it. He had not expected to run into Joan in the music room. He'd gone to get these LPs specifically to share with Iris. He wanted to share something special with her—let her into a little bit more of his life. Maybe he also wanted to prove to her that he had been cool before he met her, even if he did like wearing hoodies. He was trying to move forward with Iris, and then Joan appeared and he felt the familiar pull, like an ocean current that drew him off-course no matter how hard he fought.

He pulled a couple books out of the locker, and stuffed them in his bag. He hated the way she had this kind of hold on him. He resented it. With the LP in hand, he walked down the hall toward home.

Joan said she remembered when he played Miles Davis for her. He hadn't planned that ahead of time, like he was planning with Iris. It just happened. She was watching him work in his shed, and they were chatting, and when he found out she hadn't heard of Miles Davis, he stopped everything he was doing, dug up the CD from the pile in his bedroom, and played Blue Like Jazz on the old boom box in the shed. He didn't feel the need to find it on vinyl to prove he was artsy. He just wanted Jane to hear this music that meant so much to him.

Was his plan to share this record with Iris just a lame imitation of that moment he shared with Joan? Was he trying to force something, to construct some kind of experience that would convince him he was as close to Iris as he had been to Joan?

He couldn't even figure out if he _had_ been close to Joan. He'd shared things with her about his mom that he had never shared with anyone—things he couldn't imagine sharing with Iris. But that only meant that he had let her get close to him. Had she ever let him get close to her? He'd never figured out what she thought of him.

As he walked the last few steps up to his house, he remembered Joan stopping him as he walked up the stairs from the basement music room. He remembered her white sweater, and the way her hair fell around her face. He remembered the look on her face when she realized that she couldn't even apologize for making fun of the vintage shirts Iris picked out for him without making fun of them again. Why did these stupid shirts bother her so much anyway? He couldn't decide if it was frustration with her, or frustration with the fact that her opinion still mattered so much to him that gave him the courage to confront her.

"_Listen, what are we, Jane? I…I mean, we're not…together, but it…it seems like we are sometimes?"_

And her response just frustrated him more.

"_I don't know. Maybe it's because we were…for, like, a second."_

Were they really together—even for a second? Adam had convinced himself that Joan never thought of him that way—that he had deluded himself into imagining more than was really there.

Adam dropped his bag on the floor in his room, balanced the LP on a clear corner of his desk, and flopped back on his bed. He couldn't even figure out which second she might be thinking of. Was it that one kiss at the science fair? Was it the few minutes on her sidewalk when she finally danced with him, and when she'd held him tighter than anyone ever had, except his mom? Was it when he got tickets to the White Stripes? Did she consider that a date? Did he wreck everything by inviting Iris to go with him instead?

No. Joan was the one who backed out of that one. It was yet another time when some new, spontaneous interest suddenly trumped all the plans she'd made with him. That was the thing—he never could figure out where he stood. She'd be so caring one minute, and look at him with those eyes that made him feel like anything was possible—like she believed in him, and he could do anything in the world, and the next minute she'd brush him off in favor of some new hobby, or some crazy scheme.

And through it all, she never let him in. She never let him help her with her crazy projects; she never really told him what was bothering her. He had trusted her with everything, and she never trusted him. He was sick of it. He was angry at her for not trusting him, and angry at himself for trusting her so much. He couldn't keep waiting for her to change. He needed to move on. He may not feel the same way about Iris—he certainly couldn't imagine sharing his mother's note or those old video tapes with her—but at least he knew that what he did feel was reciprocated. Iris paid attention to him. Iris made time for him.

He rolled over to reach the phone on his desk, and dialed Iris' cell phone.

"Hey…you wanna come over later? I decided that you can't go another day without hearing Miles Davis."


	2. Ripples

Ripples

**Ripples**

As Iris moved across the shed toward him, Adam was still reeling. He turned toward the turntable and shuffled through albums, looking for the one he meant to play for Iris.

"So…what was that, A?" Iris sounded suspicious, and a little insecure. Adam swallowed, and willed his face to cool down. She had every right to be suspicious. He had been moments away from kissing Jane again when Iris walked in. Iris was his girlfriend and he still hadn't kissed her, yet! He took a deep breath.

"Oh, …uh, Jane came by with all these old records. Her piano teacher's getting rid of them, and she said I'm the only person she knows who has a way to play them. They—they're kind of boring, though—all classical…" He laughed, to try to lighten the mood a bit. He still hadn't turned around. He couldn't bring himself to look at Iris, yet, but he knew she had walked across the shed. He could feel her standing behind him.

"Oh. Okay…I-It's just things seemed a little…uh…intense...when I came in, you know?" Adam finally found the right album, and placed the LP on the turntable. He turned around, now, but kept his eyes focused on the album cover, studying it intently.

"Yeah? Um…yeah. Joan just learned some crazy stuff about her family. I-I don't think I should really…um…talk about it, but it—it was kind of…intense, I guess." Adam finally ventured to look up at Iris and noticed a flash of something—anger? jealousy?—in her eyes. Before she could ask any more questions, he put on a smile that he hoped looked eager, and held up the album cover. "So, you ready? I swear this is going to change your life."

Iris hesitated for a moment, searching his eyes. Then she flashed a smile back at him. "Sure. Hit me with it, A!"

He turned back to the turntable, and carefully placed the needle at the edge of the LP. As the speakers crackled with static before the first song, Adam felt Iris lean up against his back and wrap her arms around his waist. It made him feel trapped, and when the music started, he turned around a little, loosening her hold on him. "Let's sit down," he suggested, and moved to sit on the bench where he and Joan had just been sitting.

Iris settled next to him, and leaned against his shoulder. Adam couldn't see her face, but he could tell by the way she kept nodding her head and tapping her leg that she was trying to get into the music. Trying a little too hard, actually. The way she was keeping rhythm looked just like some beatnik in a jazz club scene of a movie. Joan hadn't done anything like that when he played her this album. Instead, she had watched him—watched his face as it clouded over with memories. It hadn't even taken a whole song for her to figure it out.

"_It's your mom, isn't it? This reminds you of her."_

Joan wasn't particularly perceptive, but there were moments like that when it was as if she saw straight into his soul. Tonight, for the first time, he felt like she had finally bared a little of her own soul. Maybe that wasn't entirely fair. That night at her house, last week, when she had the sprained ankle…when she admitted that she didn't _just_ like him. He caught a glimpse then, too, but it was still so guarded, so vague. He wanted to think that she was telling him that she cared about him—maybe even loved him—but he couldn't shake the feeling that it was just wishful thinking. Maybe she just meant that he was her best friend, or something. Someone special, but not _that way_.

Tonight was different, though. Tonight she was clear about what she was feeling. When he'd asked her what was up, he was just hoping she'd stay and talk a little longer, but she had really told him. She hadn't changed the subject, or given a vague answer when he knew something specific was bothering her. She'd come right out and told him about this long-lost uncle, and her parents lying to her. He could see the pain in her eyes, and for once he knew exactly what caused it. It was empowering. He felt like he had a chance at helping, even a little. It made him almost delirious.

He didn't understand it, but somehow, in that moment, when she finally shared some of her pain and confusion with him, he imagined this whole future ahead of him—ahead of them. And he wanted that future to be good, full of good ripples. When he slid his hand into hers, and promised that they would never let themselves hide the truth like her parents had, he felt almost desperate. He felt like he needed her in his life more than anything else. For one moment it didn't matter that their relationship was still hopelessly undefined. All that mattered was that she was hurting, and he knew that his words and his hand in hers were helping. He'd found his purpose in life.

For one moment. Then Iris came in. Adam knew he had no right to feel like she had interrupted them. Iris was the one he'd invited over, after all. And suddenly, as Adam's mind returned to Iris, and her head resting on his shoulder, he realized that the album was almost over. He'd spent this whole time thinking about Joan. So much for feeling closer to Iris! He was the worst boyfriend in the world. Adam wrapped one arm around Iris' shoulder just as the last song came to a close.

"So, what do you think?" He couldn't even pretend cheerfulness, but maybe that was okay. Miles Davis wasn't exactly cheery.

"Wow, A. It's …it's amazing! It's, like…" Iris closed her eyes, trying to find the right words, "…I don't even know. It's like all this pain, and longing, and stuff, but it's still really understated, and somehow beautiful. It's kind of like your art, A. Not quite as brilliant," Iris flashed him a flirty smile, and Adam tried to look flattered when all he really felt was empty, "but still totally cool. I can see why you like it so much."

"Yeah,…yeah. I…I'm glad you like it, yo," and he gulped, realizing that there was no way he could tell her how much it really meant to him: that his Miles Davis CD was the last present he got from his mom; how they listened to it together all in one sitting, and he'd felt closer to her than he ever had—like she was showing him a new part of herself. He'd shared all that with Joan, because she seemed to guess it already. To Iris, this was just some cool music.

"So, what now, A? Have any more cool vinyl to spin for me?" Iris looked up at Adam expectantly. He glanced at her, and realized how hard she was trying to impress him. He couldn't quite believe it, but Iris actually thought he was cool. He didn't think anyone could ever mistake him for being cool. She really liked him. She really wanted him to like her. Here he was with this adoring girlfriend and all he could think about was Joan. He really _was_ the worst boyfriend in the world! He stood up to turn off the turntable, and also to hide the panic and self-loathing he knew was visible on his face.

"Uh…no, actually, I don't own many albums. I borrowed this one from the school music room. They… actually have some really cool stuff down there… you know, when you go digging." He looked over his shoulder, and couldn't quite read Iris' expression. "It's probably really late, anyway. I don't want you getting in trouble because of me." He turned around and smiled, hoping she wouldn't get the feeling that he was trying to get rid of her…even though he kind of was.

Iris searched his eyes for a moment before she smiled. "Yeah, you're right. Mom would totally ground me if she knew I was alone with a boy this late at night," she smirked at him, with a flirty cock of an eyebrow, "and she'd never believe that we were just listening to jazz." Adam laughed nervously, and swallowed. "I probably should get going…I just wish we had more time, you know. I wish I could just stay here with you forever." She drew the 'forever' out a little bit with a whine, and then pouted.

"Y…yeah," Adam realized he was staring at Iris, more in fascination than affection, and he quickly glanced away, "yeah, I know…I mean…me too. It sucks." Iris stood up and grabbed him around the waist, pulling him into a hug. Then she pulled back a little bit, and looked up into his face. He could tell that she wanted to kiss him, and he immediately tried to figure out how he could avoid kissing her. He leaned forward and pecked her cheek, and whispered in her ear, "I mean it, Iris; I don't want you to get in trouble because of me." He leaned back, and smiled when he saw the happy look on her face. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah, A. I'll see you tomorrow." She blushed, and turned to leave the shed. Adam watched her going, feeling like the biggest jerk in the world. When she turned at the door to give him a shy smile, he forced himself to smile back, and wave. Once she was out of sight, he dropped back onto the bench and buried his face in his hands.


	3. In the Way

In the Way

**In the Way**

The clock on his desk said 4:42. Adam had officially been trying to get to sleep for over four hours. Four hours of tossing and turning. Four hours of beating himself up. Four hours of trying to convince himself to get over Joan and be the boyfriend Iris deserved. Four hours of wondering what would have happened if he'd actually kissed Joan tonight before Iris showed up.

He was pretty sure he knew the outcome of that one. Joan would have flipped out, and he would have been left feeling rejected, again. After all, it wasn't like anything had really changed. _He_ was the one who held her hand. _He_ was the one who made stupid promises as if they were going to spend their lives together. _He_ was the one who leaned in to kiss her. As much as he wanted to believe that she would have welcomed that kiss, he still had no signs from her that her feelings had changed. He'd kissed her before, and she seemed to be able to just shrug it off and move on. What made him think this would have been any different? He thought that maybe all her snide comments about the shirts Iris gave him were a sign that she was jealous, but when he confronted her yesterday, she'd just said she didn't want to get in the way of him and Iris.

But she did. She got in the way tonight, just by being herself. Adam knew he couldn't really blame her. She didn't ask to hold his hand. She didn't move to kiss him. And that's what was infuriating. Joan got in the way of things between him and Iris, but only because of his own hopes—his own stupid, irrational sense that he needed her. He'd started dating Iris because he was tired of feeling hurt by Joan; tired of being on hold; tired of caring so much about her when she didn't seem willing to let him care for her. He might need her, but she never seemed to need him. Iris seemed to need him…or at least to want him; to want his company, and his attention.

He thought of Iris and wondered if he was just using her to distract himself. Obviously he still cared about Joan. Was he just dating Iris so that he wouldn't have to think about Joan as much? Was he that much of a jerk?

Whatever he was, he was stuck. He was dating Iris, now, and he was just going to have to figure out how to be a better boyfriend. Adam rolled onto his stomach and pushed his face into his pillow, willing himself to fall asleep.


	4. The Guess

The Guess

**The Guess**

It wasn't until he was walking home after school that Adam had really gotten a chance to process everything Joan had thrown at him in the hall that afternoon. It was when he was finally alone that he thought back to their conversation, and everything really hit him.

She needed him. She'd said that. Her dad was mad at her, she was beating herself up, and she needed him. Joan did need him.

And that kiss that haunted him was haunting her, too. She hadn't been able to ignore it and move on, after all.

And last night, in his shed, she had felt it too. She had felt the connection, she had wanted that second kiss. It wasn't just him.

It wasn't just him. Joan felt the same way. He had seen it in her eyes in the hall—that kind of desperate hope that he always felt around her. She felt it, too.

That was why he had turned around before he was halfway home and was now walking to Iris' house. He had no idea what he was going to say, but he knew that he couldn't be with Iris anymore. Maybe he shouldn't have gotten together with her in the first place…but he had, and now he had to deal with it—with all the hurt and anger that Iris had every right to feel. He was an awful boyfriend to her.

Adam turned to walk up the path to Iris' house. He didn't see a car in the driveway. Maybe that meant that he'd catch Iris alone. He hadn't figured out how he was going to do this if her mom was hovering around them. He walked up the steps to her front door and rang the doorbell.

Iris looked surprised, but also pleased when she opened the door and found her boyfriend standing on her porch. "Hi, A! What's up?" It was when he lifted his head and she saw the sorrow and fear in his eyes that she realized what was going on.

"Um, Iris…I …we…can we talk?"

"Uh…sure." Suddenly Iris wasn't sure she wanted Adam in her house for this conversation. She stepped out, pulling the door behind her. "How 'bout we walk," she suggested.

They made it a whole block, and Adam still hadn't said anything, so Iris finally took the plunge, "You wanted to talk…about something?"

"Yeah…I just don't know how to start." Adam had both hands in his pockets, and hadn't looked up at Iris since they left her house. She had slipped an arm into one of his, trying to maintain some sort of connection, but now she pulled her arm out and wrapped it around her stomach.

"Why don't you start by telling me what happened with Joan…in your shed last night?" Adam stopped walking and stared at her.

"Wha…What do you mean?"

"I'm not stupid, Adam. It's obvious that you and Joan have some kind of… I don't know…history or something, and that she can't get over you. She's trying to get you back, isn't she?"

Adam's face was flushed, and for a moment, he couldn't figure out how to work his mouth. "N…no, Iris. That's not what's going on."

"So you're telling me that this 'talk' we need to have has nothing to do with Joan." Iris crossed her arms and gave him a skeptical look.

"No. It…it does. It's just…not like that." Adam ventured a look up, to find Iris standing her ground, waiting for him to continue. "We don't…really…have a history. Not like dating, anyway. I mean…I did like her. And I think she kind of knew that. I wasn't good at hiding it." Adam looked up at Iris again, and it was like she had turned to stone. She hadn't moved at all. Adam couldn't decide if this was a good sign or not, but it gave him the courage he needed to just spill everything out. "But she kept doing these things that really hurt me, and I spent weeks just being angry and trying to hate her, and then she kind of helped me deal with some stuff about my…my mom…and then I kissed her one day and I thought that meant that we were together, somehow, but it didn't seem to mean the same thing to her, and then…well, it just felt like I wanted _us_ to be so much more, and she was never ready. And when she backed out of the White Stripes concert at the last minute, I just…I just decided to give up, to stop waiting." Adam took a deep breath and looked up at Iris again. Her posture hadn't changed, but he could see waves of different emotions crossing her face.

"Well, Adam, it sounds like she missed her chance with you. I think it's a little late for her to be throwing herself at you." Adam could hear the hurt and the anger in her voice, and he mistook it for anger towards Joan.

"Iris, she isn't throwing herself at me" Adam's voice was still quiet, but he was starting to get frustrated, and he could see the anger mounting in Iris' face.

"Then what is this, Adam? What's going on? Why are we talking about Joan?" Each question was like a sharp jab that deflated Adam's frustration—he had no right to be frustrated with Iris. He was here, breaking up with her. Of course she was angry.

"I…I think she's ready…for us to be more." Adam dropped his head, again, knowing how lame that sounded.

"How does Joan have the right to tell you she's ready for more when you're _my_ boyfriend?" Iris' voice was just as controlled as her posture.

"She hasn't told me. I…I think she's actually been working really hard not to tell me…"

Adam looked up at Iris again, and she looked straight into his eyes.

"You're guessing. You're breaking up with me on a hunch that this other girl, who already hurt you and broke your heart _might_ be ready to be more than just friends." It wasn't a question. Iris realized she had seen this coming, but she still wasn't going to give Adam up easily. "What if you're wrong? What if she puts you back on hold, and you spend the rest of high school pining after this girl who doesn't like you like that?" She stood right in front of him and looked up into his face. "Is it really worth it, A? Is it worth giving this up?" But he didn't need to answer. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he thought it was worth it.

"You never did stop waiting for her, did you?" Adam flushed again, and slowly shook his head. Iris faced the uncomfortable realization that Joan wasn't coming between her and Adam; she was the one who had come between Adam and Joan. "Well,…I guess this is it, then. Good luck, Adam. I hope you're right."

Adam sensed that the discussion was closed, and he looked up. Iris suddenly seemed so calm, but he thought he could detect a hint of sadness just behind her eyes. "I…I'm sorry, Iris. I didn't want to hurt you."

Iris steeled her face even more. "I've survived worse, don't worry. Look…I'll see you in class on Monday," and she walked past him, and all the way back to her house without looking back.

Adam sighed, and turned the corner to walk home.


	5. More

_Note: The closing scene of Do the Math happens in the space marked off with dots, after the second paragraph._

* * *

**More **

Adam planned to talk to Joan the next day, but over his microwave macaroni and cheese dinner, he realized that he wasn't going to be able to sleep, and rattling around the house until his dad got home after midnight was not an appealing prospect. So he went for a walk. He knew he was going to Joan's house, but he didn't know if he was going to ring the doorbell or not. All of a sudden he was much more nervous than he'd been with Iris.

As he approached the Girardi house, he got tangled up in a mass of dogs and leashes that seemed to come out of nowhere. Once he extricated himself, and continued up the Girardi's lawn, Adam looked up and realized Joan was staring back at him from the front steps. He shook off his initial shock with a little wave, "Hey"

……………………….

He did it. She knew. And she was crying. Crying, but smiling.

Adam realized he was sitting next to the most beautiful girl in the world, and she was smiling just for him. He let out a quiet laugh of disbelief, before he slowly moved toward her and searched her eyes, wondering if he could kiss her. As he paused, Joan answered his unspoken question; she moved forward and closed the gap between them.

It was a short kiss, and Adam could taste the salt of the tears that were still streaming down Joan's face, but in that brief moment he felt like everything in the world was exactly right.

When they pulled back just a fraction, Adam couldn't help but continue gazing at Joan in wonder. She blushed, and dropped her eyes down into her lap, "Adam?"

"Yeah?" He smiled at her wet lashes fluttering against her cheek.

"I was scared, too." That surprised him.

"Jane…" he whispered, "scared of what?" She hesitated just long enough for one horrifying thought to cross his mind: '…scared of me?'

"…of this…of us." Joan lifted her eyes up and saw the concern and confusion building in Adam's eyes, so she continued, trying to explain something she was just beginning to understand, herself.

"I guess I just always thought that dating…in high school, at least… would be kind of silly and shallow—like a game. You know, you have a crush on some cute guy, one of your friends tells him, even though she promised she wouldn't, and then you go to a movie and if you have fun, you keep hanging out until one of you gets bored, and then you break up and move on. I don't know—I guess that's what it always seemed like for Kevin—like it was some big game."

Adam watched Joan shift a little, amused at the look on her face as she tried to explain this to him. He was trying hard to follow her, but he couldn't figure out what any of this had to do with them, or with being afraid. Before she continued, Joan looked Adam straight in the eyes and took his breath away.

"What we have is so different. So much bigger. It's not a game. It can't be. I…just didn't expect this…I didn't expect this to be so real…so soon." Joan could see the understanding begin to wash over Adam's face. "Even just as friends, I felt so much. We seemed so close. I was scared of what would happen if we 'coupled.' Part of me was scared that we'd lose this…whatever it is…and another part of me was scared that we wouldn't. That I'd feel even more. That we'd be even closer. It seemed scary to care so much about someone I'd just met this year."

A new realization washed over Adam. "When you said we weren't ready, I thought you meant that you didn't like me enough. I thought I was waiting for you to like me. That wasn't it, was it?"

Joan shook her head. "I think I liked you since the first time I went to your shed--you looked so hurt that I thought you were a pothead, and you gave me that beautiful piece of art. I still have it, you know. I keep everything you give me." Adam blushed at the memory, but then his brow furrowed as he put more pieces together in his mind.

"And then I went did the stupid dating game thing with Iris. God, Jane, I'm so sorry. I messed this up."

"No, Adam. I think…maybe I needed to see you with Iris to realize how I felt. I think I kind of took you for granted before that. When I saw that you wouldn't wait forever—that you might actually move on and find someone else—that's when I knew that I didn't want that to happen." Adam watched Joan closely as she lifted her eyes again. As she looked into his eyes, trying to share all the things she couldn't find words for, Adam felt his guilt melt away. "I realized it was worth the risk. I wanted more."

"Jane…" It was one syllable, but as Adam breathed his name for her, Joan could hear all the joy and all the longing and all the wonder he felt around her. She raised a hand to Adam's cheek and pulled him close for another kiss.

This kiss was longer. It was still gentle, still marked by all the nervousness of two kids who had never done this before, but they found more confidence to linger and explore. Adam had already committed Joan's features to memory. He knew all of her expressions, even if he didn't always know what they meant. He knew the movement of her hair, and the arch of her neck, but now he discovered that there was so much more to learn—the taste of her mouth, and skin, and dried up tears; the smell of her hair; the feel of her skin.

He felt a chill run up his spine, as Joan adjusted her hand on his cheek, and one of her fingers grazed his earlobe. A galaxy of possibilities spiraled out from that one motion, leaving Adam's head spinning. Joan felt him deepen the kiss in response, and she opened her eyes in surprise. Without breaking the kiss, she started watching him, enjoying the line of his cheekbone and the arch of his eyebrow. She ran her finger against his ear again, and smiled as his eyebrows furrowed with intensity. She giggled, delighted with her discovery, and Adam pulled back a fraction. He opened his eyes to meet her mischievous grin and smiled, ending the kiss with one word, "Wow."

Joan scooted closer next to him, and rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm glad we're ready."

Adam wrapped an arm around her waist and rested his head on top of hers. "Me too." He breathed in the clean scent of her shampoo and tightened his grip on her side, thinking he could stay here with his Jane forever.

In the stillness and silence of the following minutes, Adam began to wonder why Joan had been on the porch, wrapped in a blanket and crying when he found her tonight. And he realized that even though it was really late, her parents' hadn't come out looking for her at all. "Jane?"

"Mmmm?"

"How are things with your dad?"

Joan was surprised at the question, but pleased to find out that Adam had been paying attention across the last couple of days—that he cared what was going on in her life.

"Better…I think." Joan lifted her head again, but Adam kept a tight hold on her waist as she filled him in on all that happened. How she'd called her uncle; how not even Kevin knew that he existed; how her dad talked about his childhood; how her uncle showed up at the house and she'd never seen her dad so angry; how her dad finally got his father's police badge; how he cried; how her parents had locked themselves in their room, but she could still hear the crying. That's how she ended up on the porch in her pajamas and a blanket. She needed some place to breathe where she wouldn't hear her father crying out decades of anger and hurt.

Joan laid her head back on Adam's shoulder and sighed, "I'm glad you came. I'm glad I'm not alone." Adam kissed the top of her head, and wondered how this amazing girl, who seemed to leave chaos in her wake also managed to help so many people heal from old, old wounds.


	6. Revelations

_Note: A huge thanks to everyone who has reviewed! I'm so glad folks are enjoying this as much as I am. I intended this to be the last chapter of this particular fic, but I'll leave it open ended for a while to see if inspiration strikes. _

_Also, I attempt to juggle a lot more characters (and their internal stuff) than any of the other chapters--it's been a challenge. I'd love insight from any fic-writing veterans on ways I can improve at writing multiple-character scenes._

_Thanks all!_

* * *

Carl Rove had been home for almost half an hour before he realized Adam wasn't there

Carl Rove was home for almost half an hour before he realized Adam wasn't there. As he shuffled down the hall to bed after his midnight sandwich, he noticed that Adam's bed was empty. He thought he remembered the shed being dark when he pulled up after work, but he went back to check. No Adam.

Concern pressed down on his chest as he picked up the phone and dialed Adam's cell. Where could he be? What happened? Adam was never out later than midnight.

A muffled ringing came from Adam's school bag on the kitchen table. Carl dug in between books and folders and pieces of metal until he located the cell phone at the bottom of the bag. He sat down at the table, looked at the two phones in his hands and took a deep breath as he wondered what to do now.

That girl. Adam had a girlfriend. Maybe he was just being a normal teenage boy and staying out late with his new girlfriend. Carl clung to this possibility and tried to push down all the other nightmare scenarios his parental brain seemed to generate. Now, if he could only remember her name…

He felt bad about that. He knew Adam had been with this girl for a few weeks. He should know the name of his son's girlfriend. Carl realized that he didn't talk to his son much these days. He flipped open the cell phone, and decided to scan the contact list. It didn't take long—there were only four: "Dad," "Grace," "Iris," and "Jane." Carl didn't need to use the process of elimination—he did recognize Iris' name once he saw it. He pressed the call button.

After a few rings, a sleepy and confused voice answered, "Adam?"

"No, it's his dad. Look, Iris, I'm really sorry to wake you up. Adam's not home and he left his cell phone here at the house. I thought he might be with you."

"Um…he's not."

Carl fought the panic that was beginning to press on his chest again. "Iris, do you have any idea where he might be? Did he mention plans tonight?"

"No, Mr. Rove, I…" Carl could hear her hesitate. "I don't know, but maybe you should check with Joan." Was that a hint of bitterness in her voice?

"Joan Girardi?"

"Yeah, that's her." Yes, that was bitterness. What was going on?

"Oh. Okay. Thank you, Iris."

"Yeah. Good night." She hung up as he said, "Good night" in return.

Joan Girardi. Carl smiled a bit. He knew his son had fallen hard for Joan earlier in the year. He never had figured out if they actually dated or not, but he'd definitely been surprised when Adam started dating this Iris girl instead. He'd feel bad for Iris if it turned out Adam had dumped her for Joan, but he also couldn't help smiling at the idea of his son dating Detective Girardi's daughter. Besides, he knew Joan—he understood her charm.

He pulled up Adam's contact list again, and called the number listed under "Jane," that name Adam insisted on using for Joan.

The phone only rang twice before someone picked up, "Detective Girardi here."

That wasn't what Carl expected. "Oh, Detective. This is Carl Rove—Adam's father. I'm sorry to be calling so late, but I'm looking for my son. I was told that Joan might know where he is…"

"Okay. Just a moment." Carl heard muffled talking in the background and a second later there was a new voice on the phone.

"Hello, Carl, this is Helen. Will and I have an agreement—after 10 pm he takes the official police business, and I handle everything else." She laughed, and Carl relaxed. He was much more comfortable with Helen Girardi than the Detective.

"I'm so sorry to be calling so late. I got home from work after midnight, and realized Adam was not home. He also left his cell phone here, so I'm trying to figure out how to track him down."

"Oh don't worry—I completely understand. I'd be in a panic if one of my kids was unaccounted for after midnight. I'm sure he's fine, though. Did you call his girlfriend, Iris?"

"Yeah, that's the first person I called, but she said I should check with Joan."

"Really?" Helen sounded just as surprised as he had. That made Carl feel a little better—if something had changed between Adam and Iris, at least he wasn't the last one to find out. "Well," she continued, "let me go check with Joan, then."

Helen _was_ surprised. She knew that Joan and Iris did not get along. If Iris thought Joan had a better chance of knowing Adam's whereabouts than she did, that might mean something. Something Helen might not mind at all. She smiled a little as she walked down the hall to Joan's room, tapped on the door, and opened it to discover Joan's bed empty. She raised her eyebrows and wondered if Iris was right—maybe Joan did know where Adam was. Maybe she was there, too.

"Carl, Iris might be right. Joan's not in her room, so I'll go check downstairs." From the top of the stairs she could tell that all the lights were off in the living room and kitchen. That didn't look good. As much as she loved Adam Rove, and hoped her daughter would finally respond to his attention, she definitely did not want to find him alone with Joan in the dark after midnight. She was still a mom.

As Helen scanned the rooms downstairs and determined that Joan was not in the house at all, she admitted that was even more troubling. Just as she was about to tell Carl she was ready to panic with him, Helen noticed that the porch light was on. She pulled back the curtain and found both Adam and Joan sitting there, in the light. She breathed a sigh of relief, and held the phone back up to her cheek, "Carl?"

"Yeah?"

"He's here. He and Joan are sitting on the front porch. Shall I drive him home?"

"Oh, no, Helen. I'm still dressed from work and wide awake from worrying. I'll be over in a few minutes."

"Okay. I'll let him know you're coming." As she hung up, Helen snuck a peak through the window again. She smiled at the way Joan was leaning against Adam. Maybe they'd finally figured things out. She hoped so. She'd been routing for them for months, now.

As Helen opened the front door, Adam looked up in surprise, but Joan stayed where she was, head resting against his shoulder.

"Mrs. G," Adam whispered, "Hi…" He blushed and looked down at Joan's head. "She kinda fell asleep. I didn't want to wake her up."

Helen smiled. "That was nice of you, Adam, but your dad got worried when he got home and you weren't there. He's on his way over to pick you up."

"He…" Adam was confused. "He called here looking for me?"

"Well, apparently he called Iris first, but she suggested he call here." Helen saw the blush deepen on Adam's face. "Why would she say that, Adam?"

"Um..." Adam gulped, "We broke up today."

Helen looked at him intently. "Over Joan?" she probed. Adam nodded his head.

"Does Joan know this?" Adam nodded again, but this time Helen saw a warm smile spread over his face. She smiled in response.

"Well, I'm glad you two have worked things out, Adam, but Joan needs to come in to bed, now, and your dad will be here any second. You're going to have to give her a pretty good nudge—she's a deep sleeper."

Adam grinned, "I noticed." Then he bent over Joan's head and whispered, "Jane…" He shook her shoulder and lifted some hair off of her face. "Jane, your mom's here."

Helen could hear Joan mumble something incoherent, and she knew that Adam's gentle methods would get them nowhere. "Joan Girardi, you need to come inside." Her voice was loud enough that Joan's head popped up and Adam's eyes widened with surprise.

"Mom! We were…just…talking." Helen smirked. Even half-asleep, Joan's survival instinct was strong.

"Joan, it is after midnight. Adam's dad has been looking for him, and now he's coming to pick him up. You need to come inside and sleep in your own bed, not on Adam's shoulder." Joan's head snapped around to look at her mother and her face reddened. When she looked back at Adam, he smiled at her and making her blush even more.

"Okaaay, mom. I'll be right in. Can you give us a moment?"

"Oh, I think you two have had plenty of time, already, Joan. You can see each other tomorrow." As Joan gave her mother a glare, Carl Rove pulled up in front of the house and rolled down a window.

Adam saw his dad first, and moved to stand up. "My dad's here, Jane. I'll call you in the morning?"

Joan turned from her mom, "Yeah. Tomorrow...don't forget..." Adam smiled at the real concern on her face.

He stood up and pulled Joan with him, "Like I could forget you, Jane." He lifted a hand to her cheek and would have kissed her, except he saw Joan glance nervously at her mother from the corner of her eye. He smiled, and turned to walk to the car.

Joan watched Adam walk down the steps and across the lawn, and suddenly didn't care that her mom and Adam's dad were both watching. She ran down the stairs after him, and caught his arm from behind. He turned around with a question in his eyes, but before he could ask it, she pressed her lips against his a little harder than she intended to. When she pulled away, with a red face and embarrassed grin, she whispered, "Good night."

"Good night." Adam smiled back at her, and then glanced up at Mrs. Girardi in time to see a broad smile on her face. That made him blush, too, but more with pride and pleasure than embarrassment. Helen Girardi's opinion of him meant more than just about anyone else's in the world. He was relieved that she approved of him being with Joan. Adam turned and climbed into the car with his dad, noticing the smirk that his dad was trying to hide.

"Had a busy night, I take it." Carl glanced at his son out of the corner of his eye as he pulled away from the curb.

"Yeah, kind of." Adam smiled to himself.

"Good, though?"

Adam's smile spread across his face, "Yeah, Dad. Real good."


End file.
